


Exile

by GreatEternal



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: "Survival", Fantasy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 01:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatEternal/pseuds/GreatEternal
Summary: Life can go both ways: from a carefree life in a palace without the need of single effort to an unending nomadic life thru the dangerous wilderness, such is the fate Sharian suffers.Having no former experience in combat and being a coward having to regress back to the tribal state of the elven race is something many of the now noble High Elves dread the most. And yet the prince just does that: moving from open fields to forests, hunt, and forage for its next meal and brave mother nature itself. He knows he will never be able to go back, now he cannot just live but survive.





	Exile

**Author's Note:**

> I`m a beginner at this so expect tons of typos and overall really bland description and repetitiveness.

It all is but a distant memory that faintly echoes in his mind: decadent party filled with noblemen and women alike, provocation accompanied by the tipsiness of aged wine. He very much remembers it all but he is wishing, for one thing, more than anything: forget about it all. Be reborn anew an empty husk with no memory as even the recollection of his former life is as painful as the first stroke of a well-sharpened dagger. He now doesn't care if people are looking for him or are laughing behind his back for he is no longer the Prince who lived all high and mighty in his palace, he is now the Hunter who has one very simple goal with no end: survive.

He brandishes a rabbit: its body impaled by an arrow with worm sized guts hanging out on the tip of the arrow. He used to be afraid of critters of all sizes and had guards chase them out, but once someone is hunger sets in the weak can shift into a beast that will do anything for even a single bite of food, even if it has to be the flesh of animals and men alike. Violence is naturally something we are all fated to witness, no matter how protective our parents or societies as it is a dominant and immortal entity. The younger elf used to squirm at the sight of crimson dripping but now it is nothing more than a color, one that symbolizes war ideologies, romance or plain violence. As the knife twists and turn around the carcass it stops at a noise, a howl but not any kind of howl... the one coming from what was ounce man now a wolf.

In the distance, the beast can be spotted thanks to the glow of the lunar entity. Sharian sighs knowing the end is obviously near but he prepares an arrow that he holds alongside the string of his bow: ready to let loose at the beast. What brought the beast is the campfire: Wildmen are Tribals that abandoned civilization for its overwhelming flaws that hid them away in plain sight to die despite them being clearly visible. The wolf now crouches down to prepare to break into a charge, the elven hunter breaths deeply as he must not miss: for even the slightest mistake could mean his life. Tension grows as both eyes are locked into one another, each wondering who is the hunter and who is the hunted.

Finally, the beast breaks into a sprint on four legs to the enemy. The elf has only a few seconds to release the arrow: one moment of hesitation will be the end, his thoughts linger for a single moment and when he comes back to his senses the beast is in mid-air: his sharp claws out. He closes his eyes and holds his breath in a calm manner, he has never felt this calm in his life. His fingers let go of the string and soon the arrow that flies loose, did it hit its prey? or was this tranquility the prologue of his eternal struggle?

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully, you enjoyed despite the lack of experience backed up by some imagination.


End file.
